Push Pull
by dee768nj
Summary: Three-part short, an exercise in creating sexual tension. A distraction goes a little awry and Stephanie ends up regretting a recent decision in her life. Babe HEA, of course. WARNING: Smutty memories, self-combustion and dream smut.
1. Chapter 1

_A writer's workshop introduced me to the idea of creating sexual tension with push-pull. It was a new concept to me, and I wanted to see what I could do with it. This was just practice, written before I started D&S, but I'd like to think I put some of what I learned into D&S. Hell, why else would I have kept Dickie around so long? LOL!  
_

_Court's Confessions Challenge. Prompt: I have a confession to make._

_Disclaimer: Not my characters, not making any money. Characters belong to Janet Evanovich._

_WARNING: Smutty memories and wishful thinking, with a poofteenth of self-combustion and some dream smut in part 3._

_oOo_

**Push-Pull**

By Dee

1

I licked my lips, which were dry all of a sudden at the sight of Ranger's bare chest with its smooth mocha latte skin and well defined muscles. He stood before me, the tiny quirk adorning one side of his mouth telling me without any doubt that he was aware of the effect his shirtless state was having on me.

"What happened here?" came the voice of a uniformed state police officer, and Ranger turned his dark gaze away from me and took a couple of steps toward the cop, talking in a low voice.

I watched the defined array of muscles rippling in his back while I snuggled into the softness of his t-shirt, breathing in that unique Bulgari-and-Ranger scent, trying to inhale his essence into my soul.

I needed his strength.

It had all gone wrong in a millisecond. We were at a bar in Ewing Township, and I was in my distraction zone, slutty and loose in a revealing halter top and a miniscule skirt that barely covered my assets, teetering and strutting on my four-inch fuck-me sandals.

I shivered and pulled Ranger's shirt down over my legs to blanket me to the ankles, drawing my knees to my chest under the shirt and locking my tensed arms around them. Ranger slanted a corner-of-the-eye glance at me, his face showing no emotion as he continued his explanation to the policeman.

I'd thought I was in full control as I ushered Darrow, the skip, through the bar door, pulling him by the hand, knowing Ranger and Tank were out there waiting. But before he was even outside the asshole's free hand grabbed my halter, tearing it, yanking it off me with one swift jerk, and his other hand twisted my arm up behind me, forcing my back to arch, my head to hit the doorframe as his mouth dipped down toward my now bare chest.

I shivered again at the thought of Darrow's wet, liver-lips descending on my breasts. Thank God Ranger had been right there to knock him unconscious with a single blow to the face before the creep's protruding tongue could touch me.

Ranger had yanked off his shirt and helped me into it to cover my nakedness and then sat me down in his lap on the boards of the porch, his arms comforting me, his lips on my hair, his voice husky in my ear telling me he was proud of me, that I'd done a great job, that it was all okay now. Tank cuffed and hauled away Darrow while I sat there in a mindless haze until the police arrived and Ranger arose to deal with them.

I rested my forehead on my knees, allowing my mind to drift. Unfortunately it drifted straight to where I really didn't want to go right now. Morelli.

Joe was going to be furious when I came back braless, wearing Ranger's shirt. I didn't have a chance to tell him I had a job for RangeMan tonight, and he wasn't home from work yet when Ranger picked me up, so he had yet to see the sluttiness of my attire.

God, how stupid was I, not bringing something to change into? I wondered if I could convince Ranger to stop at Haywood before taking me back to Joe's. I was sure I had several complete uniforms, including black sports bras and embroidered cotton panties, in Ranger's closet. Better to arrive at Joe's in full RangeMan-logoed regalia than in Ranger's shirt and a teeny tiny skirt with no underwear.

Arrive home, I corrected myself. Not Joe's house. _Our_ house. My home, too. I'd moved in last week and my apartment was re-rented already. I had to stay with Joe now. I had nowhere else to go. The decision to move in with Joe had seemed inevitable at the time, but the first tinge of regret tightened my belly.

"Ready, Babe?" Ranger's husky voice interrupted my frantic thoughts and I looked up to see his hand extended down to me, ready to pull me to my feet.

I scrambled up, trying to ignore that hand, the possessiveness of it, but I stumbled and he caught me against his sculpted chest, holding me close to steady me on those damn high heels. I brushed my cheek against his shoulder, reveling in the softness of his bare skin against my face. God, it felt so secure here in his arms. But…

"Thanks," I muttered, pushing away. No more poaching allowed. I'd made up my mind when I decided to move in with Joe. Things between Ranger and me were going to be kept on a professional level.

But the feeling of his hand splayed across the small of my back as we walked toward his Porsche Turbo sent chills up and down my spine, making my scalp tingle and my nipples harden. No matter how hard I tried to push him away, his pull was hard to resist.

He held open my door and I collapsed into the leather seat, pulling his t-shirt down again to cover my knees. "I've got it," I said, taking the seatbelt from his hand to fasten it myself.

"Are you okay?" He gave me a piercing look as he swung in beside me, his eyes raking down my body and back up again, pausing at my hard nipples poking at the soft fabric snugged against them by the shoulder strap.

"I'm fine," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to ignore him as he started the car and put it in gear.

After a few minutes of riding in silence, making a valiant attempt to resist Ranger's intense magnetism, I slitted my eyes open a fraction. The vision of his bare chest appearing and disappearing in the passing illumination of the streetlights sent my mind reeling back to our night together… His scent filling my nostrils as I buried my face against his neck… The salty taste of his sweat-slicked skin… The pliability of his nipples transforming to rigidity under my tongue… The hammering sound of his heart's wild pounding against my ear… The contours of his abs, quivering as my fingers traced their ridges and valleys… The sight of his erect cock waiting to stretch me and fill me, its enormous size both terrifying and arousing…

Stop it, I told myself. Think about Joe, waiting for you at his place, at _home_, with his lean hardness and powerful Italian libido. If I needed the comfort of passionate fucking to take my mind off the near miss tonight, Joe would be more than ready to oblige.

Ranger took his right hand off the wheel and flexed it, stretching his fingers wide, then making a fist. As he brought his fingers straight again I thought I caught a twinge of pain on his face.

I reached out and with care captured the hand in both of mine, bringing it over in front of me, peering down as the lights of passing cars allowed me brief flashing glimpses. "You hurt your hand," I said, my fingers caressing the calluses on his palm.

"It's fine, Babe. I'll just put some ice on it when I get home."

I ran my thumb over the back of his hand with caution, feeling the swelling along his knuckles. "I have a confession to make."

"What?"

I touched my lips to the backs of his fingers. "I'm glad you hurt Darrow."

A real smile flashed over his lips and brightened his eyes as I placed his sore hand back on the wheel and settled into my seat.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

**Push-Pull 2**

_oOo_**  
**

"Ranger," I said as we left the highway at the Trenton exit.

"Hmmm?" He glanced over at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Could we please stop at Haywood so I can change?"

His right hand came off the wheel and grabbed my left one, bringing it to his lips for a moment before dropping it back into my lap. "Of course." He lapsed back into his driving zone.

I rubbed my knuckles, trying to rid them of the tingling intensity left by his touch. But the more I rubbed, the more I thought about the feel of his lips on me, on my hand, my face, my neck, my breasts, my belly, my…

I sent up a silent prayer of thanks when the lights of Haywood broke into my fantasy. I couldn't allow myself to continue with this line of thought.

As we stepped into the elevator I made sure that I was as far away from Ranger as the small space allowed. A not-quite-smile flitted across his face.

"Don't trust yourself with me, Babe?" he teased.

"Hmmph." I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away from him, eyes fixed on the elevator door, waiting for it to open.

Ranger held open his apartment door and waited for me to precede him. "Do you want to shower? There are clean towels in the bathroom."

"Yeah, thanks." I walked straight into his bedroom and closed the door. I didn't bother locking it, since no lock could keep Ranger out if he wanted in. But I hoped that he'd respect my boundaries.

In an effort to wash away the dirty feeling that my near miss with Darrow had left I turned the water as hot as I could stand it and let it sear my skin. After a few minutes I squirted a big dollop of shower gel onto a net pouf that I'd found sitting in a basket on the vanity and squeezed it to produce a thick, rich lather.

As I rubbed it over my bare skin Ranger's scent engulfed me, making my body ache for him. I scoured myself without mercy, trying to think of how creepy the asshole skip had made me feel. But all I felt was longing.

The stimulus of the rough net and the ultra-soft lather on my nipples dragged a moan from me, inciting thoughts of the diverse ways Ranger had made me cry out his name again and again that night. I dropped to the shower floor and rubbed the pouf between my legs, climaxing with a shudder after just a few strokes, shoving the back of my hand against my mouth to stifle my outcry.

Oh, God, I had to stop this, and now. It was almost like cheating on Joe, bringing myself to orgasm in another man's shower, thinking about that other man, engulfed in his essence.

I let the boiling water pound on me, rinsing off the lather and with it my fantasy. I needed to finish up in here and get back to Joe's, _home_ to Joe.

I quickly toweled off and blew my hair dry, finding some of that amazing anti-frizz serum in a basket under the sink. I studied the basket. It was filled with female things, _my_ things. My makeup, my hair products and accessories, my deodorant, a few tampons. All things I'd left here or Ella had bought for me.

I should pack these up and take them home, I thought. I shouldn't be keeping things at another man's apartment when I was living with Joe.

But I shoved everything back into the basket and replaced it under the sink. I still worked for RangeMan sometimes, and I might need to change here again. It doesn't mean anything, I justified to myself. It's just a matter of convenience for when I'm on a job. Like having a locker at work.

I wrapped myself in Ranger's terrycloth robe and scurried through the bedroom into the dressing room, casting a quick glance at the bed. I was almost disappointed to find the door still closed and no sign of Ranger. Well good, I forced myself to think. I'm glad I don't have to worry about any poaching.

Stuffing my tiny skirt and FMPs into my big shoulder bag, I emerged from the bedroom dressed all in black and looking like a mini-Ranger. The man himself was in the kitchen, still shirtless, leaning against the counter and drinking a bottle of water.

I watched the muscles of his throat flex as he swallowed, and I swallowed, too, finding I had a surplus of saliva.

"Water, Babe?" he asked, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement at the sight of me in full uniform, the RangeMan name embroidered on every article of clothing I wore. In response to my nod he cracked the top on another bottle and handed it to me.

As I took a small sip, I noticed the possessiveness on his face, and I blushed thinking about his name on my breasts, on the front of my panties just above the promised land.

"Let me just grab my shirt and I'll take you home." Ranger started toward the bedroom.

"You don't have to take me yourself," I said as he walked away, and he stopped in mid-stride, turning back toward me. "I-I mean," I stuttered, flustered by his bare chest again, "there's no point in you going back out again if you don't have to. One of the guys could drop me off, or I could call someone to pick me up."

His face was expressionless, his eyes unreadable. "I'll take you." He turned and strode into the bedroom, returning after a few seconds pulling a rumpled black t-shirt over his head. He pulled the neckband back up against his nose, inhaling the scent. "It smells like you."

I could feel the hotness of my cheeks and knew they were burning bright for him to see. I couldn't help it. The thought of that shared shirt brought to mind shared sheets, and the beds we'd shared, his and mine, even without benefit of sex.

I turned my back on him. "Let's go," I flung over my shoulder, taking big steps toward the door, just wanting to get away from him before I did something I was sorry for later. He didn't want me, at least not for more than a few hours of physical release, and I didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing how much more I wanted from him.

We rode to Slater Street in silence, and he pulled up to the curb in front of Joe's house. Our house. My home now.

"Don't get out," I blurted as his hand went to the door handle. I hopped up as fast as I could, but he was out anyway, standing on his side of the car watching me.

His voice stopped me cold. "I have a confession to make, too, Babe," he said, looking at me with regret clear in his brown eyes. "I screwed up tonight, and I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Ranger," I said, blinking back tears. "No harm done, and at least we got Darrow."

"Thanks for helping out. We couldn't have gotten him without you." He blinked once and then smiled. "Proud of you, Babe."

I gave him a half smile and then turned toward the house. "I'm home," I called to Joe as I walked through the door, not looking back.

_oOo_

_A/N: The original story ended here, but in response to an outcry and lots of begging for a babe ending I decided to write one more part. Therefore TBC one more time._


	3. Chapter 3

**Push-Pull 3**

Ranger eased his length into me, stretching me and filling me, his movements slow to avoid hurting me until I got used to his size. I was more than ready, dripping wet from his mouth moving down my body and back up again, teasing and stimulating.

He began stroking in and out, and I closed my eyes, every iota of my concentration on that slippery spot where we were joined. I knew it was only a matter of moments until I burst into tiny pieces.

He pounded against my g-spot and all I needed was just a little bit more to reach the doomsday orgasm. I slipped my hand between us, pinching my clit between my thumb and forefinger, and that was all it took to push me over the summit.

"Ranger, omigod Ranger," I screamed, my body exploding in a rocking, clenching climax.

After the massive shudders finally finished gripping and releasing me, I relaxed and turned to the lean, hard body beside me. "I have another confession to make," I murmured, kissing his neck. "I love you, Ranger." And I drifted off into sleep.

My awakening was gradual as the morning sunlight crept across the foot of the bed. Saturday morning, I thought, snuggling into the sheets. I can sleep as late as I want.

But something about the sheets felt wrong, smelled wrong. I squinted my eyes open to the small room papered with faded roses, the gauzy white curtains blowing in the summer breeze, the battered wooden furniture, clothing scattered on the floor and overflowing the tiny closet.

What the…?

My heart clenched in my chest. I was in Joe's bed, in Joe's house. I corrected myself. _Our_ bed, _our_ house.

Ranger was just a dream.

Oh, God.

My heart ached, rent with pain as if it were ripping itself out of my chest. It didn't matter whether Ranger wanted me or not. I wanted him. Moving in with Joe hadn't changed my feelings, no matter how much I'd tried to fool myself.

I loved Joe, but it was a comfortable love, friendship rather than the kind of passion that filled your life and made you want to die without the object of your desire. I'd made a huge mistake, and I was afraid it was too late to correct it.

Don't be a fool, I told myself. It may be too late for you and Ranger, maybe it was always too late, but that's no reason to ruin your life and Joe's. I had to tell Joe and move back out. I could stay with my parents for a few weeks until I found a new place.

I dug through the clothes on the floor and found my RangeMan uniform from last night. Pulling it on, I strengthened my resolve and went downstairs to face Joe.

The smell of coffee comforted me, and I headed for the kitchen. A little caffeine, some breakfast, and then I could begin the process of undoing this colossal mistake I'd made.

Joe's grim face stopped me dead.

He sat at the undersized kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of him, his knuckles white and his jaw clenching and unclenching. He looked dangerous, intimidating, capable of killing someone with his bare hands, and more than ready to do it.

Killing _me _with his bare hands, I amended as his glittering eyes slashed over me, scorching in their intensity. Perhaps the RangeMan uniform hadn't been the best wardrobe choice this morning.

"Well," he spat out, "Sleeping Beauty awakes. I trust you had _pleasant _dreams?"

"Joe," I whispered, realizing I must have cried out Ranger's name aloud, "I'm sorry."

"What I don't understand, _Cupcake_," he made it sound like a dirty word, "is why the hell you moved in with me if you were going to jump right in bed with that… that fucking _thug_."

"I never—"

"I don't appreciate hearing another man's name when I'm fucking my fucking _girlfriend_," he shouted, jumping to his feet and stomping across the room toward me, his arm drawing back, fist clenched, ready to punish.

"No," I sobbed out, shrinking back from his rage. "Don't."

He stopped and stared at his raised fist, lowered it, his face anguished. "Fuck. I don't know what I'm doing."

"Joe—" I began again, but he cut me off.

"I don't want to hear any explanations. There's no possible explanation that could make me forgive you. You told him you fucking _loved_ him, Stephanie. You can barely say that to _me_. There's no way you can explain that away."

"It was just a dream, and I can't—"

"Just get out," he hissed. "You can come back for your things on Monday when I'm at work. And leave your key here then."

"I don't have a car," I said, the tears overflowing my eyes. "It died yesterday."

"I called him. He's waiting out front. Goodbye, Stephanie. I hope you're very fucking happy with him. And," he spoke through clenched teeth, "fuck you. Fuck you both."

The tears were streaming down, blinding me, and I felt my way out the front door, easing it shut behind me as I blinked and focused on the shiny black Turbo parked in front of the house. Ranger stood beside it, but at the sight of me came jogging over and swooped me up into his arms, kissing the moisture from my cheeks.

"Come on, Babe," he murmured into my ear, "I'm taking you home."

"I— I don't have a home to go to," I sobbed as he set me on the passenger seat of the Turbo and buckled me in. Renewed tears ran down my face and I swiped at them with my forearm, snuffling and rubbing away the mucous that dripped from my nose.

He walked around and got in the driver's seat. "You have a home, Babe. You'll always have a home."

"I— I do? I will?"

"With me." He grinned and the sight melted my heart down into my loins. "You belong to me. It says so right on your clothes."

He took my hand and brought it to his lips, nibbling at my knuckles, his tongue darting out and probing between my fingers.

The touch sent a shock through me, straight to my center, and in that instant I knew everything was going to be all right.

_The end_


End file.
